Let's Negotiate
by eleven19
Summary: Liv Moore needs a favor from Victor Whale that requires his shady skill set. Cute, slightly-dark humor humor.


Victor Whale considered himself an honest man.

It was a measure of just how skewed his sense of morality was, that he thought himself honest at all, but that was hardly his fault. Having honed his craft in the basements of laboratories, depending on stolen supplies and anonymous corpses to conduct his experiments, he'd never really had the chance to practice _honestly._ But it would have been a sin to waste his gifts! Grave-robbery and break-ins paled in comparison to the crime of depriving the world of his brilliance.

However, as much faith as he had in the "greater good" approach to life, there were some things that existed beyond his scope of acceptance. Things he could not force himself to allow, that troubled his rarely-troubled mind. And what Liv was suggesting was…well, it was more than immoral, it was _insane!_

"Olivia Moore," he said, staring at her in incredulous horror. "Are you… _actually_ asking me to kill my neighbor with a hatchet?"

Liv frowned. "I never said anything about a hatchet—why is that where your mind goes? I said, 'gently coaxe him into a comatose state and inject him with the virus'—"

"Let's be clear on two things," Victor interrupted, flicking up his hand. "One—if I'm going to kill Killian Jones, it's going to be violently. And two—I am not injecting _anything_ into that man."

"Victor!" Liv exclaimed, looking ready to smack him. "Damn it, don't you understand? _I need a zombie on the the police force!_ They're not going to to listen the 'vaguely psychic' intern and her hunches forever! I need someone on the inside, who I can trust!"

"And that's Killian Jones?" Victor scoffed, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. "You pick the one officer on the entire force who only got in, so they could use him for the 'June' page on their calendar?"

"I _trust_ him," Liv said, giving him a severe look. "Killian's…not the brightest bulb, I admit, but I've known him for a long time, and he'll listen to me." She folded her arms, a determined set to her jaw. "He's already agreed. Now we're just waiting on you to perform the operation."

Victor looked at the ceiling, shaking his head. Yes, Liv was beautiful; and _yes,_ her spunk was kind of precious; but he couldn't just kill a guy to make her happy!

…Could he?

"Okay, here's my deal." Victor lowered his eyes, meeting hers. "I do this for you…you have to go out with me."

Liv's eyebrows shot up. " _No,_ " she said.

"All right, then, I won't help," Victor shrugged. He started to turned around, as if returning to his working; adding over his shoulder, "Make sure you shut the door on your way out—"

"No, wait!"

Victor smiled triumphantly, and spun back around, fixing his gleaming eyes on a reluctant-looking Liv. She grimaced, clearly struggling to decide whether it was worth it, and said in a disgruntled undertone, "I'll do it."

" _Three_ dates," Victor said, daring her to disagree.

She did. " _Three?_ Absolutely not. _One_ date. That's it." With a toss of her head, she twitched a withering smile at him. "If it's going to cost three dates, I'll do it myself."

"Without access to lab equipment or any way to get into the buildings after dark?" Victor smirked. "If you could do it yourself, you wouldn't have come to me in the first place."

" _Two_ dates," she negotiated, closing her eyes, so she wouldn't have to look at his smug face. "That's my final offer."

"Three, or Killian Jones lives out the rest of his life as 'Officer June', with no zombie affliction to speak of." Victor folded his arms, lifting his eyebrows in a challenge. "Unless you can find another doctor who thinks you're cute enough to commit second-degree murder."

Liv opened her eyes with a weary sigh. "All right, _fine,_ " she said. "Three dates."

"Excellent." He'd grow on her yet: three dates was plenty of time for him to get stuck in her head like a bad commercial jingle, and then she wouldn't be able to resist him.

"You can bring him by tonight," Victor told her, already making a mental list of all the machines he'd need to hook up. "We'll kill him, and then we can grab a cup of coffee."

Liv smiled humorlessly. "Sounds romantic," she said. "You really know how to show a girl a good time."

"They don't call me 'Dr. Smooth' for nothing," Victor grinned.

"Nobody calls you that," she scoffed.

"It'll catch on," he assured her with a wink. "Trust me."


End file.
